Cod Almighty | Diary

Do not touch that spoon

19 July 2021

Come, come, what did your mother always say? Just because you want it, doesn't mean you can, or should, have it.

I have a question for you: is James McKeown denuded of dignity having to wear a nude keeper's kit?

Your determinedly Deviant Diary is here for you on this day of days, dispensing bon mots and bromides in the melting madness of Monday. I don't want your freedom, all I want right now is for you to lend me your ears, for I come to bury your dreams of Cup glory with sad news from the south.

We may want to win the Lincolnshire Cup, but we can't as our denuded youthers were beaten by the Tulipboys led by a karaoke Matt Rhead. Not so much a hard man, more a lard man. Still, Town reached the last eight; Scotland would be happy with that.

We'll get to see the real thing on 3 August, of course. We’ll just have to concentrate on the FA Trophy now.

I have a question for you: Toll Bar, huh, what is it good for? Absolutely nothing. Well, apart from an anecdote about Take That, Paul Wilkinson's perm'n'tache combo and nurturing the shiny half of Stockitt and Petwoods. And now maybe a new star is born: Edwin Essell. Clap for him, clap for him, hey!

Yes, the first game of the new era, the first game with actual, factual Town fans standing around chatting about their holidays, just behind the camera. I didn't go, Burnsy, but Town were a hit. Well, they were hot, literally, figuratively and factually. Nice to see that Town's official feed eventually worked out who scored the fourth. They did say that change is incremental, not everything is perfect from the start.

At least they saw a problem and fixed it. With Big Proper Town denuded of non-scoring strikers through general creeping old manness, the jaunty juvenile jinker seized the day, for Essell is the vessel defenders will wrestle and probably has the brew that is true too.

Old mannnness? Taylor's hams were strung in the sun and whatever happened to Dear Old Lennie? Last week he got a small kick that made his calves burn. Yes, we have no strikers, we have no strikers today, but the artist formerly known as Shorty has already got back in his campervan, scouring the land for waifs and strays down the highways and byways.

Tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow a former Port Vale player shall strut and fret his hour upon the stage. Town have a secret kick-a-bout with Young Nigel's Staggerers and the word on the streets is that Kurtis Guthrie is scheduled to trot about in stripes. Mmm, nothing whets the appetite more than a forward with a 40-game goal drought!

Tomorrow? One never knows. Listen to the colour of your dreams for if it's too hot for trousers, it's too hot to work.